


An Illusion

by lets_get_messi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:30:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lets_get_messi/pseuds/lets_get_messi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This body holding me, reminding me that I am not alone in this body, makes me feel eternal. All this pain is an illusion. </p><p>Sam can't deny the feeling he's felt deep in his soul since he got it back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Illusion

Sam stared at his reflection. His eyes glazed with a pain dwelling hollowly within his orbs. He didn't recognise himself. Couldn't relate to the bone and sinus that made him, his foundations. He couldn't determine if his eyes were always that dull, if the irises had lost their shine long ago or if it was a result of all the anguish and angst he had seen. Whether the flames which engulfed him burnt out all the passion and innocence that once lay behind hazel eyes. He sighed lengthily, turning from the small bathroom and heading back into the motel room he was sharing with Dean. It was still the early hours of the morning, Dean waking up just 5 minutes before Sam and deciding to head out to the diner for some breakfast before they got down with some research for their current hunt in ohio. Sam was sure it couldn't have been later than 6am. 

That's when he heard it, eyes widening then at the sound of clanking chains. He froze, looking around the room for anything which could link to him. He knew he was coming. It was a sound with a warning. A sickly sweet feeling purred inside him as he took another step further into the room. A scent engulfing his nose, sulphur blended with bitter-sweet purity. An overwhelming blend which he knew belonged to-

“Hello Sam.” His voice sent shivers transpiring through his veins, his throat constrictive as he tried to swallow the cotton like feeling away. He felt a sense of foreboding pumping through him like liquid heat.

“What are you doing here?” Sam's voice seemed alien, projected from a cut throat, bleeding words that seeped into the air around him and yet he barely heard them at all. He breathed deeply, watching the slight smile tugging at the man's lips who stood across the room from him, fingers scratching needlessly at the cracked paint of the window frame. 

“You think I don't hear you praying for this? For me?” The man drew the thick curtains together, coating the room in darkness from the weak early morning sun. “It might not be a prayer Sam, but I hear your thoughts. And they're not as hateful as one would think.” Lucifer smirked, a knowing glint shimmering in his eye as he paced around the room, gaze fixated on the taller male. 

“You don't know what you're talking about. You're dead. I put you in that cage.” His words were stammered, breaths trapped in an uneasy fight to be spoken his vision blurring as he blinked rapidly. Failing to dispel of the evil hallucination before him.

“No hard feelings Sam, I know it was merely out of necessity.” Lucifer reasoned, hands up in mock surrender.

The devil turned then, zoning in on the desk in the corner, littered with various salt rounds and books. The Winchester way. He chuckled, his hand wafted over the candle, a flame flickering to life under his palm as he studied the fire closely. Sam felt his own gaze draw to the dancing flame, lighting the devil's features in a painted auburn glow. “Ever since you got your soul back you must have noticed that there has been a feeling inside you, residing. Reflecting so much more than the horror of the hell you saw.” Lucifer almost taunted.

“Shut up you son of a bitch.” Sam pleaded, eyes falling over to the demon knife perched precariously on the bedside able.

“Lose the animosity Sam. It wasn't supposed to be this way.” Lucifer turned to face him then, stare steady. “Don't look so shocked. You think your soul was supposed to stay with me?” He took a step closer, Sam's breathing hitching at the scent that rushed over him in a wave. The realisation at the words he heard, a painful reality he had buried deep inside of him. “No it was stuck. It was glued to me Sam. It practically became a part of me.” Lucifer placed a hand out to Sam's chest, his fingers cold against his t-shirt clad chest, repelling the Winchester boy away who gasped out at the touch.

He stood a considerable distance away from the Devil, eyes focusing on his face, the features he had practically mesmerized. Yet it was not Nick's vessel who he had grown accustom to in the pit. No. It had been a bright light, a thick glow casting over him and cleansing him of all that he had feared. Most nights the light had been a curse, a painful blistering that obliterated his skin, which morphed his head into an insane cacophony of confusion. Yet his need for the light that tingled his skin became an obsession. One he hadn't told Dean of. One he knew he never could. For it was a weakness that reflected his character. A character Dean foolishly believed he had strengthened. 

“All I've done is think about you.” Sam's words were distant from his body, the sounds forming in the air and greeting Lucifer who nodded as though he already knew. And Sam knew by his easy expression that he most definitely did. He let his body drift towards the beside table, fingers fluttering in mid-air as Lucifer seemed to orbit Sam's movement, a slow smile spreading on his face.

“It is written for you to do so. Although, stabbing me would not do much harm. Not with a blade like that anyway.” His voice came out as a bark as Sam lunged for the knife, Lucifer ducking towards the human who stumbled backwards, the knife aloft towards the devil maintaining a bearable distance between them. Sam's hand shaking considerably.

“Oh Sammy, Sammy. Why so brash?” Lucifer chuckled, hands up in mock surrender as Sam simply swallowed thickly. “I'm only here to talk to you civilly.”

“How could you possibly talk to me in a civilly?”

“Because I crave your soul just as you crave miy grace.” Lucifer spoke with such ease that Sam felt his grasp falter, his eyes growing wide like a kicked puppy as he felt his breaths falling out at the revelation. “It's ok to feel that way.” Lucifer chided, Sam shaking his head and backing into the wall in the corner of the room.

He slid down the wall holding the knife tighter in his grasp, knuckles whitening. Lucifer advanced on him slowly, eyes focusing on the tall man who seemed so small and intimidated when cast in the shadow of another.

“Time is a cruel burden, I know that more than any other.” He mused kneeling before the Winchester boy, who swallowed thickly pushing himself further into the wall as though wishing to fall right through. The candle light from across the motel room lit up the contours of the devil's face, darkness stretching over features Sam knew like the back of his hand. Features that were stuck in his mind day in and day out. Following him around like a continuous nightmare. Eyes fixed on him wherever he chose to go. “Nothing but time creates space for us to dwell in. And it is where one dwells that is a dangerous place indeed.” His words purred softly into the silent room, Sam's breathing near ceasing at the Angel. Tormenting him, his mind a baffled dissonance of pain and insecurity. Lucifer's words bleeding into his mind and drowning out all logic with a broken trust marred with uncertainty. 

“You need me Sam.” His words fell upon deaf ears, who knew too well they were true. Sam shut his eyes hoping to rid his thoughts of the fallen angel who he could still sense was so close. Hot breath rolling out onto his skin as he sank closer, hovering over the man whose breathing quickened, grasp on the knife white hot. “Your brother tells you I'm not real. But I am Sam. You know it to be true. You know that what you're feeling now is real.”

“You're in my head.” It was a plea. A plea coated in a regret that was practically palpable. Lucifer snorted at that, reaching out a hand and stroking gently at Sam's cheek, the youngest Winchester closing his eyes tightly, tears seeping from his thick eyelashes. Lucifer watched as a tear rested upon his thumb. Marvelling in how the droplet remained whole, a slight orb of water shimmering with the candle light on the table behind them. He observed the features of the person shivering against his palm, nostrils flaring with ragged breaths, full lips biting together in resistance of words that wished to spill out. The human before him was a complicated one. A reflection of an angel he once knew.

“Exactly. And still you feel this pleasure.” Lucifer spoke effortlessly, his other hand cupping Sam's cheek and watching as his tear-filled eyes opened once more “Your skin is practically crawling with the feel of me. But I'm not here?” 

“I'm going crazy.” Sam's whisper was almost regarded as a question as his grip on the knife loosened. For Lucifer wasn't there, he knew it and yet the weight against his cheeks felt every bit as real as the wall against his back.

“Maybe. But all the best people do.” Lucifer's whisper was reminiscent of a mother to it's child, the cool feel of his palm soothing against Sam's flushed skin. “We shared much more than a bunk when we were in the pit.”

“Stop please-” Sam begged, head thumping with a hollow dullness as Lucifer held strong.

“Oh Sam, drop the tortured victim act. You revel in the feeling of my skin adorning your own. Just as you did with your soul against my grace.” Sam looked up at Lucifer then, his eyes dark as though he were possessed in the shadow from the little light that filled the room.

“No please-”

“They made quite the pair. Broken. Bloody. Misunderstood. It's written in the stars that you and I are one. Belong together.” Lucifer's words were almost melodic. Sam blinked back further tears looking down at his hand and noticing that somewhere admits Lucifer's rant he had entwined their fingers, the knife cast aside on the floor. 

“I've been inside you Sammy. Inside your body, your mind. I know you better than you or Dean ever could.” Lucifer squeezed their fingers then, leaning forwards into Sam's personal space and placing his nose just under his earlobe, goosebumps rising across the human's body on instinct. “I miss the feeling of being under your skin.” Lucifer remarked, Sam shutting his eyes, blowing out his breath through his flaring nostrils, the presence around him swallowing him whole. “I miss my grace puncturing your insides with heat you've never felt, and dare never feel again.” Lucifer's fingers stroked the nape of Sam's neck, his other stroking lines across an upturned palm.

“Lucifer.” Sam's voice was dark, dank and filled with something unrecognisable as Lucifer simply chuckled lowly. 

“Sammy. Your body, your flesh, all 6ft 3 of you. Is positively flawless.” Lucifer's whispers became barely audible and yet Sam found himself clinging to every breath, body shuddering as the devil leaned ever closer, nose brushing along the stubbled cheekbone of the Winchester boy. “You remember don't you?” Lucifer began, tracing non-existent patterns on the man's face with his nose. A slow tension building inside the room ready to blow the whole motel to smithereens as Sam pushed his head back against the wall.  
“The feeling of my grace, wrapped around your soul. Oh it was marvellous.” Lucifer lifted his leg, straddling the man with ease whose eyes clamped tighter shut, adam's apple quivering at failure to swallow. Lucifer slid his arms around Sam's neck like a serpent, fingers toying with the longer strands of hair as he placed their foreheads together. 

“It felt, rather like...” Lucifer paused, waiting for Sam to open his eyes before he forced his hips down onto him. “This.” Lucifer smirked as Sam's eyes rolled back at the feeling of their erections pressing together firmly. “But so much more intense.” Lucifer teased, allowing his hips to pick up a slow steady rhythm as he felt Sam unwind to the touch. Once rigid arms falling limp at his side; a once tight lined mouth falling slack and moving; a throbbing cock pressing desperately at the refines of his jeans.

“I want to feel you again. Want to fell that power that tension, the fission that burnt hot between us in such a cold, cold cage.” Lucifer's voice was darker now, lined thickly with a lust he had been harvesting the majority of their conversation. Sam was hanging from every word, moaning softly as his hips moved involuntarily from his will. He tried to focus on the release, the heavy weight allowing a pleasurable friction to his cock, a feeling he had nearly forgot in his times hunting. 

“You know you want this Sam, look at me.” Lucifer shook Sam's head then, brown eyes snapping open, mouth in tight line once more as he stared at the devil, falling into his open eyes. “Forget the rights and the wrongs. You spend your whole life dealing with them. Just let go.” Lucifer mused, hips pushing deliciously heavy into Sam's crotch. “Let go Sammy.” Another press, erections throbbing as they simultaneously let out loud groans. “Let go!” Lucifer roared, Sam's hands moving to shift the weight on top of him. He gripped him tightly, moving the pair into a standing position. 

Sam pushed Lucifer against the wall then, back colliding audibly with the bad paintwork, hands holding firm at his arse as the devil grinned wildly. 

“That's more like it.” He quipped, words falling still as Sam's mouth latched onto Nick's pulse point, Lucifer crooning out a laugh as his hands followed the lines and contours of Sam's back. Sam let his tongue lap at the collarbone of the vessel, feeling the way the skin moved under his tongue, so reminiscent of a human, a body. It felt oddly real as though it was void of a satanic spirit. Still he continued, teeth scathing and tongue swiping as the devil simply groaned in pleasure.

“Your tongue is delightful.” Lucifer rewarded, placing a gentle kiss on Sam's forehead who pulled apart from him, still holding firm as he took in the appearance of the man before him. The golden glow from the candles illuminating his face with a flickering sunset of colours. “Is the bed more to your taste?” Lucifer asked innocently, Sam turning them around and dropping the devil on the bed who cackled at the sudden fall, Sam jumping beside him immediately. Nothing but lust and heat pumping it's way through his body. A lust he hadn't realised he had been containing, a lust so very similar to the yearning he felt in the depths of his soul.

They stared at each other in a gaze that seemed to last aeons and Sam turned away, eyes shut and mind baffling at the idea of what this meant. The cool fingers of the Devil himself stroking his jawline, his erection straining against his clothes.

“Lets not make this something it's not.” Lucifer smirked and Sam looked down at himself a flush crawling up his cheeks as he sat unclothed. His eyes drank in Lucifer lying back on the bed, cock sprung free. Sam gulped as the devil grinned at him fiendishly. “Skip the foreplay, we're not here to make love, Sammy.”

“Why are we even here?” Sam asked himself more than Lucifer as the two shifted together, Lucifer allowing his erection to leak seamlessly onto Sam's thigh. 

“Because we were always going to end up here.” Lucifer's hand tightened around Sam's neck, the longer-haired man enjoying the restricted tug at his adam's apple as he ground into the flesh of Nick's leg. “Naked skin blistering white hot against one another.” A press of a nose against the corner of his mouth. “Lust pumping through our veins instead of blood.” Hot spurts of breath on his neck. “We're made to do this. To connect to become one.” He squeezed tighter at his neck, eyes drawn together, diluted. “In every sense of the term.”

They moved as one, Sam crawling in between the devil's legs and pressing their bare chests together. They remained silent for a few moments. Breathing heavy.

“Take control of me Sam.” Lucifer purred eyes brimming with lust as he stroked a thumb over Sam's bottom lip. “Fill me up and revel in the feeling.” His words were like gravel, dark and rough as he snarled at the man before him.

“You're not here.” Sam reminded head pressed against the weight of Lucifer's whose fingers danced down his vertebrae, his skin rising with goosebumps at the alien feeling. Sam trying to ground himself, put his feet on the earth instead of orbiting a dream he knew was far too dangerous for him to dwell upon.

“Lie with me, and allow yourself the see how real it can be.” His fingers, like a child coaxing a puppy onto the track of an oncoming train. Sam gasping for breath as he felt the tracks trembling, vibrating under his feet with the inevitability of the end. And yet he continued chest heaving against the naked flesh of the devil. 

He raised his hand between them challengingly, their eyes penetrating one another's gazes. He spat on his hand, Lucifer's smirk broadening into a wicked grin as Sam worked his wet had over his hard cock. He moaned to himself, enjoying the feeling of the heavy weight between his legs finally subsiding from it's neglect. Warm and full in his hand as he stroked himself in preparation.

It dawned on him suddenly that he hadn't lay with a man before. Never even had he experimented or even considered the possibility. Yet here he was like an expert at the hands of inequity itself. Yet staring into Lucifer's gaze he knew all that he needed to know. And that it was the heavy feeling residing in his soul that needed seeing to before he went insane. He lined himself up with the entrance of the devil, who simply stroked encouragingly at Sam's hand.

Sam's eyes rolled into the back of his head at the tight heat that seemed to envelope him whole. Lucifer simply cackled, fingers stroking up Sam's forearms who remained still, trying to adjust to the black and white sparks bursting in front of his eyes. 

“Move for me.” Lucifer demanded in a purr, Sam obliging almost with immediate effect as he pushed passed the distraction of his heart hammering against his rib cage and focused entirely on filling the fallen Angel. It began as a few simple thrusts, his eyes remaining closed, thoughts disentangling themselves from what he was doing. The act he was performing, on the devil who wasn't real. The hallucination. “Oh yes.” Lucifer remarked, pushing down onto Sam's length which throbbed tirelessly inside his entrance. It was the twitching of a muscle around him that made Sam's eyes open, and it was the sight of Lucifer's eyes glazed over with white, glowing as though he had been smote that made Sam hold the Angel tighter as he began to lose control of himself. 

It felt surreal, an ideology that Sam had pictured once or twice. On day's when his head hurt more than he cared to admit, a hand goading over his throbbing length as he remembered aspects of hell, head hung low with water from the shower cascading over his spine.

“Yes Sam. Let go for me.” Lucifer crooned encouragingly, fingernails gliding easily down Sam's back who thrust relentlessly. Their moans filled the room, the bed rocking against the motel wall, causing the hanging photograph above the bed to fall to a slant. 

The world seemed a forgotten place everything automatically felt like it orbited the man beneath his hands, his hips rolling up to meet the angular frame of Lucifer who tilted his head back. His split tongue running across his top lip eliciting a moan from Sam, who wondered internally when this became his kink. 

He tried not to think of Jessica. The woman with the luscious curves and the effeminate movements as they lay in his college dorm room bed, hands roaming one another's bodies, mouths latching onto any part of the skin they could find. He tried not to consider how far from that innocence he had strayed. For this wasn't just a guy he was fucking. Wasn't just a bad guy who would be something he and Dean would hunt and find pleasure in killing. This was the bad guy. The devil himself, Sam buried balls deep into his tight entrance, the fallen angel pushing down on the hard length as the sound of skin meeting skin marred the otherwise silent room.

“I'm real Sammy. I'm in that beautiful head of yours.” Lucifer said, an undeniable aggression to his voice as he pulled Sam's head closer, their foreheads pressed together tightly, his fingers threading through Sam's long hair and arousing a groan from the man who pounded him unwaveringly. Heat rushing through them as an orgasm approached on the horizon.

“You're not.” Sam barked out, cupping Lucifer's face and smoothing down his palm roughly against the cheek, gentle kisses pressing at the fingers as they moved. He furrowed his brow at the skin that ripped off in his fingers, leaving behind the burn marks that once adorned Nick's vessel when the feel of Lucifer was too much. His mouth opened in a grimace, his hand wiping away the cold flesh, Littering the bedsheets with a streak of rouge blood.

“I think you want that to be true. You wish I wasn't here, because everything was so much more simple that it is now.” Lucifer spoke, fingers clawing down Sam's back who growled out at the pain, cock throbbing as he drilled harder and faster. His thoughts thinking of Jess and then evaporating into nothing with every time he buried deep within the devil. “It's suddenly impossibly difficult and you know it, because we are one of the same.” Lucifer continued, smirking as he presented his hands to Sam, their bodies moving in time as Sam looked down horrified at his own skin peeled away from his body in the angel's palm. “What would Deano say if he knew his brother was fucking the devil?” He cackled, eyes glowing white as he clung to Sam, blood smearing onto his arms. Sam barking out the pain that burnt bitterly across his scratched and raw back. 

“Fuck. I'm close.” Sam thrust harder, and then it happened. Lips found his and a suddenly intimate affair became all the more real. A tongue pushed passed his lips and he was too far gone to deny the access, his one hand running through Nick's short hair, the other clutching at a bare arse as Lucifer threaded both hands through Sam's locks. Sam's eyes were wide as he probed the slit of a forked tongue, moaning audibly with eyes slipping shut as what felt reminiscent of two tongues explored the inside of his mouth. The kiss deepened as their moans muffled together, that familiar heat purring lowly in Sam's gut, pooling thickly and rising, rising through his body before breaking through his raw throat as he pulled away from Lucifer with a pop, the purr turning into a roar as he released himself into the smirking Satan. Mouth swollen as he eyed the Winchester boy.

“Jesus H Christ Sammy!” Dean's voice broke through his reverie and Sam gasped out falling to earth with a dangerous thud. He turned to his brother, stood at the door hand shielding his eyes as he chuckled lowly. “If you're gonna wax the surfboard at least put a sock on the god dammed door or something.” Dean finished shaking his head as though physically trying to rid himself of the image he had just witnessed as he shut the door behind him again. 

Sam remained still, kneeling on the bed and looking down at himself, fist grasping his shrinking erection, hand lined with beads of his release. His naked body masked in a thin layer of sweat as the sheets beneath him lay out tangled and warm. He gulped for air that failed to come to him. His visions shattered and behind lay the complex and melancholy reality of his broken sanity.

The eloquence of Lucifer's hands against his skin blurring into a bitter-sweet line that he hadn't anticipated he would cross. Mentally he thought he was much stronger. He shifted off the bed, wiping his hand on the sheet he had lay upon. 

“You see Sammy.” His voice caused him to turn with such velocity he feared whiplash. There he stood. The Devil, eyes wide and hair mussed from the imaginary tussle of their bodies pressed together. “The best of us go crazy.”

Before he could reply Dean knocked the door impatiently “Sammy, you all done? I just didn't envision eating my pie on the hood of the car today.” Sam got up reaching for a towel on the chair opposite him. He tied it around him, his heartbeat slowing as his orgasm subsided. He paused. Body frozen as he stared at the bed. A single black feather curling at the tip sat lightly within the crumpled mass of bedding. Like a perfect contradiction. Beautiful and dark.

“Yeah I'm done.” Sam spoke shaking his head sadly, head bowed not even looking back toward the bed as Dean entered the room, knowing full well the feather was simply a fragmented shard of his broken sanity, lying before his eyes, taunting him back to a reality he once knew. 

He dared a glance and nodded to himself as the bed lay bear aside from Dean going to sit down on the end of it before changing his mind and mumbling of how he feared the sheets would be too sticky. 

No feather to be seen.

No traces that Lucifer had ever been there.

For he hadn't.

Sam felt sick.

**Author's Note:**

> Based loosely on the song "Parabol" By Tool.


End file.
